For Blue Skies
by lhbaghead
Summary: Sometimes, love is hard. This is what Roxas learns over the course of his relationship- and non-relationship- with Axel. AxelRoxas, dedicated to suddenchangeofheart


The first time he and Axel have sex, it's in the flatbed of a truck in the middle of nowhere, on a ratty quilt that Roxas had found in his yard one day.

Roxas is nervous- so nervous, and his hands are trembling, and when he slides them up the lean muscles of Axel's back, feels the way his bones shift under his skin, he thinks, _no-_

"Hey," Axel says, kissing his temple, soft and caring. "Hey, it's ok, I got you."

The first time he and Axel have sex, it's on a flatbed of a truck in the middle of nowhere and Roxas shivers and lets himself be gently pulled apart.

--------

"It's- It's not what it looks like, I swear. I swear, Roxas-"

These words barely get past his consciousness, but when they do it just makes the image he's seeing sharpen and focus, like he's looking through the lenses of a camera. He has a disorienting moment where he feels like all can do is see- where all other senses have abandoned him and jumped out the window. The only thing left, again, being his sight and the growing sense of disbelief and absolute emptiness.

Roxas has never felt this empty.

The guy on the bed twitches in his sleep, shifts his foot, which drags the cotton blue sheets (that Roxas picked out) down; the small of his back is revealed, and the subtle shadow that hints at the crack of his ass is bold.

"Roxas-"

He doesn't look at Axel, or gives any indication that he's heard him at all; he just turns his back, grabs his keys and leaves. Silent, like the lack of footsteps following him, trying to make this all better.

----------------

There's something to say about breaking up with one of the seniors of your track team. For one, it's difficult, especially in the changing rooms; Axel shows no discretion in the way he stares at the line of Roxas' back as he changes, eyes wide and muddled with a billion different emotions Roxas won't bother to interpret because he can't even look Axel in the face.

The second thing is that, even though it stings to even think about Axel, he has to; has to look him in the eyes when Axel's talking because there's a big meet coming up. And Roxas isn't irresponsible enough to skip practice for something as- as selfish and stupid as this.

A tiny little voice in the back of his head wants Axel to explain himself; wants Axel to come and say sorry and apologize and kiss his face and hold him close and pull him apart oh so gently.

Axel doesn't get the chance; as soon as the meeting is over and the actual practice has begun, everyone scattering each which way over the field, Olette bustles over to him, gently loops her arm through his and gives him a politely tight smile.

"C'mon Roxas! After practice, me and Pence have a surprise for you: Slasher-Zombie-Horror movie night! We have some classics lined up."

Roxas nods, smiles, participates in conversation, and tries to ignore the sick flutter in his chest when he sees Axel pause before turning away.

He's never told Axel, but the very first time he felt his heart drop in his chest and his cheeks heat was in high school, when the redhead turned around and asked for a pen, smile more of a smirk as Roxas' fingers brushed his own.

And then, three years later and the surprise on Axel's face when Roxas made it through the roster, had got a spot on the team of a university that was pretty good at track and field and something like a thousand miles away from their high school

"You were the guy behind me in English, right?" Axel had said, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "You gave me a pen once or something."

Roxas, who's learned that the punched out feeling in his stomach is a side effect of being- of liking someone, had nodded.

"Yeah," he said, quirking a grin, "And I never got it back."

--------------

Not even a year later and Axel had him in his bed, kissed his cheeks every morning, cooked his toast and got the shower nice and warm before dragging him in, long skinny arms holding him to his chest.

Roxas shakes his head and concentrates, feels the heavy weight of the pole in his hand, the way it tilts down if he loosens his hand enough; concentrates on the long stretch of track ahead of him, the bright orange of the pit and the shiny indentation of the box in the ground. He fixes his grip and starts counting his steps backwards as he runs.

He doesn't think when he runs, when his legs tense in anticipation, when he gets nearer to planting the tip of the pole into the ground; doesn't picture anything as he lowers the pole and raises his arms and quickens his last steps; doesn't feel anything as he raises the pole, digs it in, and pushes up with the one leg.

When he lets everything go, Roxas flies.

-----------------

"That was-" Axel clears his throat, the sound gravelly and loud; someone in the distance shoots the starting gun and Roxas can faintly hear the push of feet against the tartan, can picture Olette with her face determined and her hair tied up. "That was a good jump."

Roxas doesn't look at him because his body still feels like it's flying- like he's still letting go of things, like he isn't thinking or picturing or feeling.

He plants his feet on the ground and pushes up from the pit, squishy beneath his hands.

Axel, out of the corner of his eye, looks nervous and sick and hurt and when Roxas glances at him his body crashes into the mat behind him two minutes too late and everything comes rushing back and-

He turns around and walks across the field, and all he can hear this time is the silence behind him.

------------------

"He was an asshole." Pence seethes, tipping the bottle of the beer he's drinking an impressive length above his mouth; even more impressive is that all of it smoothly falls into the gaping hole, not even hitting his teeth and splashing or anything. It's one of Pence's crowning achievements, this trick. That and his kickass reputation of pingpong champion.

"Not good enough for you," Hayner mumbles, chewing on the filter of the cigarette hanging from his lips. It's actually been out for a long time, the ember tip a crackly black since Hayner wasn't actually smoking the thing. Hayner doesn't actually smoke, which is the funny thing. He just likes to chew on them sometimes. Roxas is pretty sure the pack he has now is the same pack he had a month ago, at Roxas' birthday party.

Olette sees the look on his face when she returns from the kitchen, and when she does she rushes over, placing the popcorn on the table.

"Oh, honey. Roxy." She says, and her voice is so broken as she reaches for him and pulls his head to her soft chest, already stroking his hair, "It's ok, Roxy, it's ok. You can let it all out."

Roxas hadn't even realized he'd been crying; but now that he knows, he feels like he can't stop.

--------------

One meet passes and another one is already on the horizon; this one bigger, better, and more glorious than Roxas has ever been able to participate in.

"Twilight Tournament guys." Xigbar says seriously, one eye sharp and yellow against the glare of the sun. "Those of you who sucked in Destiny Islands better pick up your pace and stop bringing Hollow Bastion's name down; there are gonna be some big shots there, and by _big shots _I mean _if you fuck this up you have no chance, ever_."

The whole time he's shooting glances at Axel, glaring; Roxas carefully doesn't look at the display of neutrality on Axel's face, or the way the bags under his eyes haven't disappeared for weeks.

"For the ones that kicked ass," Xigbar continues, and here his gaze passes over Roxas, "You better still be kicking ass by the time this comes around. Some of these big shots' gophers saw you, and they probably put in a good word or two."

And then Xigbar slaps his board against his thigh, glances over the whole of the team. "Now get the fuck moving out. I want to see improvement by the end of the week, people."

Everyone scatters, heading towards their respective places; Roxas, instead of heading towards the field sectioned off for pole vaulting, heads towards the men's changing rooms because he forgot his water bottle and it's probably the best time to go to the washroom. He remembers a first year disaster, needing to piss and hitting the box too hard- he had actually wet himself, and the shame and embarrassment hasn't left him since.

Everything feels mechanical to Roxas lately, like he's following a script- once he relieves himself, washing and drying his hands come next, and than opening the combination to his locker, where he'll reach in, dig around for his bottle, and grab it before closing the door and heading out. _Every little thing _is mechanical. Everything he knew before has been wiped out and he's starting from scratch, making sure he's getting it right. It's been like that since he walked in on Axel and that guy in bed together, that month ago. It's progress he can admit what he saw, though, which is a big step. He can take that.

When he's closing his locker, water bottle in hand, he hears the opening of the entrance facing the field. Thinks nothing of it because Axel hasn't come to give an apology since, maybe, the first practice after seeing that Axel and that guy, naked in bed.

But apparently it is, because when Roxas rounds the corner he bumps chests with Axel, hands going up in case there's a need to catch himself falling.

"Oh, shit, sorry-" He says, automatically, without thinking- another mechanical process- and when he sees who it is he dips his head low, makes his eyes shift to the side as he brings his hands down. It still hurts to look at Axel straight in the face, but he can look out at the corner of his eye now. Even though it hurts and he'll admit, there's that strong want for their relationship to be back to normal, to be before this whole stupid drama, but that's not possible. Roxas won't let it happen. And Roxas is stubborn enough, and headstrong enough, and has morals- he won't go back to someone who's cheated on him, no matter how badly he wants it.

Fingers wrap around his wrist, softly; long and lean, like pianist fingers Roxas had once commented. Axel had laughed at that. Right now though, those fingers feel like cuffs, and Roxas doesn't like to be constrained. He tugs.

"No, wait. Roxas." Axel's voice is hard, a little panicked of course, like he wasn't expecting them to get so close so soon, wasn't expecting that Roxas would try to run away so quickly. He was probably expecting, Roxas thinks, the cool attitude Roxas had been giving him. The I'll-listen-to-you-but-only-because-I'm-polite coolness. "I wanna talk."

Axel should know him better, Roxas thinks. Then, again, thinks that Axel is right because his arm goes lax in Axel's grip but he does pull away, backing his body up so it's a respectable distance. Respectable enough that Roxas' body doesn't urge him to hug Axel, wrap his arms around that skinny frame and squeeze like he hasn't for a month and some. Thirty seven days, specifically. Roxas thinks there's something pathetic in that, counting the days from when your boyfriend cheated on you.

Roxas' clasped wrist hangs uselessly between them, terse and awkward; after a second Axel lets it drop, and it kind of feels like rejection and not-trying to Roxas. Which is ridiculous, because not holding hands is a long ways down from seeing physical evidence of cheating.

"Alright," Roxas says, looking up and past Axel, towards the field, "Talk."

Axel, maybe sensing this is a chance, a good one, swoops right in. "What you saw-"

"I know what I saw." Roxas cuts in, eyes sliding to Axel briefly before shooting to the door, where someone had run past. Roxas is suddenly hyper aware that this isn't the best place to talk about their relationship problems. If they have a relationship, at that. Or maybe he just doesn't want to talk to Axel, still. He wonders how long it will take him to get over this.

Axel gives him a glare, but without much venom. It's more of a desperate, frustrated thing, which is the way Axel always looks like these days. Namine had told him he had been acting like that, too, had been acting like a ghost in need of a place to haunt. That was before he had hung up on her.

"No, you don't. That's what you think you saw." Axel says, arms going tight across his chest; he leans back on his heels, all the world looking like he's supposed to be relaxing. The power of fooling yourself, Roxas thinks, "That was-"

And before Axel can give an explanation, explain it away, Roxas has this- this sudden rage, this howling, swirling thing that takes up all the space in his body and pushes at his heart, presses it tight against his ribcage; it's screaming _No _and _Liar_ and, most of all, _Why_.

"I saw you," Roxas says loudly, and this time he looks up at Axel, straight into his eyes- there's still that frustration and that desperation, and Axel tries to cut in again but Roxas just speaks louder, voice heavier with every word. "In bed, with another guy. Naked, mostly. You were wearing boxers. He was wearing nothing."

Roxas, for the first time, tries to remember everything about that night, and can. Startlingly clear, the way the guy's hair had been messy but shoulder-length, with soft, short spikes on top; the tattoo, blue and tribal, circling his bicep; the red mark around his neck, placed there with kissing and teeth; Axel, the legs of his Kiss boxers bunched up around the tops of his thighs, and the sleep-muss of his hair. How Axel had a bigger bite mark over the one Roxas had given him maybe five hours before that, and how he knew that bite wasn't his because his mouth didn't stretch that wide, and because he didn't bite that hard.

Finally, Axel's lips, puffy and red.

"I saw two men, mostly naked, in my bed. One was my lover, and the other I've never seen in my life." Here, he stares hard into Axel's eyes, and feels amazed that he doesn't shy away or feel sad or mechanical- he feels on fire, a bad, burning fire that eats him up. "You don't tell me what I saw, because I saw enough."

Axel's lips part, and for once Roxas isn't in tune to what Axel must be feeling because he hasn't felt this alive in weeks. He isn't aware of what Axel is going to say or what's in his eyes, though Roxas can still see the frustration. Maybe only because it's a memory from before Axel opened his mouth and tried to lie.

"I don't want an apology because I won't accept it." Roxas says, walking past Axel, and when he's out onto the field, waving at the couple others who pole vault, he realizes he's forgotten his water bottle.

And if he's honest with himself, and doesn't lie at all, he'll admit that all he wanted Axel to do was press him up against the lockers and mutter _I'm sorry_'s into his neck until Roxas forgot everything.

-------------

Sex was not the first step into their relationship- before that, it was blowjobs and hand jobs. Roxas doesn't count this as sex. He considers it more of a milestone, a step closer to having a cock shoved up your ass and bed sheets twisted into tight fists.

"Okay." Roxas had said, pressing one hand against Axel's shoulder and pushing up, breaking their kissing. Kissing was easy, and normal. Roxas had kissed people before. Some even better kissers than Axel, but he liked Axel, and kissing Axel, so. "Okay."

"Okay." Axel repeated, and laughed, and then they went back to making out for awhile because Axel's laugh was an incredible turn-on for some reason. Or maybe Roxas was just that drunk, he wasn't sure.

"OKAY." Roxas said, pushed away again, pressed a hand against Axel's mouth to quell any laughter or words trying to make their way out of the redhead's mouth. Axel looked up at him, the color of his eyes a thin, green rim around his blown wide pupils, shiny and dark. His hands were still on Roxas' hips, thumbs rubbing into the skin as if that little part of him were the directions on the map of his body. Roxas laughed.

"Wait, k? I wanna do something." And here, Roxas was confident. Liquid courage, and Roxas was courageous when drunk. Courageous on the lap of this guy he really liked, courageous with the half memories of shoving fingers into his mouth as he jerked off, hot and satisfying.

When he climbed down from Axel's lap, sat in the 'v' of his spread knees, his hands were already sweaty, fingers spread over the sweatpants stretched over Axel's thighs. His heart was already pounding and his mouth was already ridiculously full of spit. Roxas swallowed, looked up at Axel who was watching him with wide, dark eyes.

"I-" Roxas started, hands clenching. "I don't know how, but. I really want to."

One of Axel's hands went to the side of his face, made a motion as if it was going to card through his hair; Roxas, working on the notion of dirty, filthy porn, caught Axel's thumb with his teeth, gently. Sucked lightly before releasing it, looking up at Axel and the way his lips were now shiny, his mouth slightly open for want of air.

"Can I?" Roxas said, and Axel's hand did card through his hair this time. "Please?"

The first time Roxas gives Axel a blowjob, it's in a shitty basement with a party going on upstairs, the heavy bass and thump of footsteps quiet over the whispered swears of Axel's and the blood rushing through his ears.

The next time Axel approaches him, it's at the coffee shop Roxas works. Axel always used to visit him, so much that Yuffie, the supervisor on duty, knows who he is. That's why, when he turns around from wiping a table, he's surprised to find Axel standing right there, and Yuffie already bustling around, preparing his usual order behind the counter.

"Axel." He says, surprised, a little miffed. Even though there isn't anyone in the store, it still bothers Roxas that Axel would try to corner him at his work, force him to talk to him in fear of Axel making a scene. It's actually an Axel thing to do, when he can't get what he wants.

"Roxy." Axel greets, and for a split second his tight smile flickers into a more nervous one, as if he isn't sure he should call Roxas that anymore. And he shouldn't, Roxas thinks, and he gives him an unhappy frown at the name. "I just wanted-"

"One second," Roxas says, kind of coldly he admits, if the way Axel's face falls is any indication. It's not his problem, he thinks as he's walking over to the counter. Not one bit. Axel deserves a bit of retribution.

Once he's at the counter, Yuffie slides Axel's cup towards him and smiles flirtatiously. She doesn't know about the whole drama, so Roxas doesn't act on the want to snap at her when she says, voice full of innuendo, "Need a break, lover boy?"

He nods, sharply, and breathes through his nose; tries to smile politely and calmly when he hands her the cloth he had been washing tables with. "Yeah, I'll be back in ten."

"Oh, you can take longer!" She laughs, and Roxas finally lets his calm smile drop into a tight, angry one as he turns around; he doesn't see her reaction, just walks towards Axel with the cup in hand. When he passes it over, their fingers brush. Roxas resolutely does not feel anything.

Once they're outside, Roxas' apron wrapped into a bundle and stored behind the potted plant beside the entrance, Roxas wraps his arms around himself and tries not to think about how Axel's a fucking furnace and how fucking cloudy and windy it is today, about how the goose pimples on his skin appeared seconds after he had stepped out the doorway. Does not think when Axel takes a step closer and that's all, the rough fabric of his sweatshirt rubbing Roxas' bare arm.

"I know you don't want an apology." Axel starts; Axel has both hands wrapped around the cup, leeching its warmth. Roxas tries not to look too longingly at it but fails because Axel hands it over anyway. And he may be stubborn, but he isn't stupid- the coffee cup feels good in his hands, warm and inviting, heat seeping into his skin. "And I don't think any one I could give would be good enough anyway."

Roxas' heart, stupid thing it is, starts pounding and screaming inside the cage of its ribs. It's saying _any apology would be good enough _and _please _and _I love you_, but it's not saying anything without Roxas' consent.

Axel is silent for a moment, hands stuffed into his pockets; Roxas leeches warmth off the coffee cup. And then, finally, "I was going to lie to you, and say it was nothing."

Roxas tries not to stiffen at that, but a smug part inside of him cheers in triumph because, if he hadn't- well, if he had gotten swept away by Axel's charms, Axel would have lied to him. And he knows Axel is a liar. Axel's told him that himself. It's one of his flaws that make him equal parts frustrating and dangerous.

"But I kinda see you won't stand for that." Axel lets out a humorless chuckle, and then goes quiet again; he seems to be collecting his thoughts, which Roxas appreciates and knows won't help.

"I was really drunk." Axel starts, which is hilarious because most of Axel's stupidity stories start that way. "And that guy needed a place to stay for the night. So I let him come over. We watched some TV. And then, I don't know, he thought he needed to pay me or something so he started kissing me."

Axel pauses, licks his lips; his next words are low, as if he doesn't want to say them. "And then I started kissing back. Before I knew it, he was naked and asleep in my bed. I only know I didn't fuck him because I pushed him away when he tried getting me naked."

Roxas suddenly has an irrevocable feeling, like he's about to throw up- because he really wasn't expecting Axel to detail the way he cheated on Roxas, how he kissed the guy and fucked him. Or whatever. He doesn't want to hear this.

Before he can budge, move a single inch, Axel continues, hurriedly, as if he knows Roxas is about to bolt. As if he has to get it out. "I was stupid, and I'm- I'm going to apologize anyway. I was drunk, which isn't any excuse for. For throwing away the best thing I've had in a long time, ever."

In his hands, the coffee cup has gone cold; Roxas kind of feels the same way, because it isn't any excuse. It isn't at all and it's not like mentioning it will make everything better. It, in fact, makes everything worse because knowing that Axel, through the haze of pleasant warmness alcohol brings, couldn't even be bothered to not kiss people when he loved- or liked, whatever- Roxas was just. It was horrible.

"I'm sorry." And here Axel turns towards him, and his eyes are earnest and pleading and all the things Roxas wants him to be. "I. I'm stupid."

When Roxas doesn't answer Axel brings up his hands from his pockets and wraps them around Roxas', trapping them against the cup; keeping in heat that's no longer there. Roxas tries not to look up at Axel because, for once in his life, he knows he's going to cry if he does that.

And Roxas isn't very emotional. He's always been the shy, quiet kid, the one who's calm and cool and sits at the back of class. The one who's rational, even when he's drunk. The one who doesn't cry unless it becomes too much.

And, apparently, it's almost too much- Roxas knows that the stinging in his eyes isn't from the wind biting at them.

"That was the stupidest mistake of my life." Axel continues, voice low and soft. "And I'm serious. If I could take it all back, I would."

"But you can't." Roxas says, and all at once he knows his words are loaded and Axel can take them any way he can. As a surrender, as a rebuttal, as a threat, and as a rejection. Axel could pick the worst possible meaning of the words and, suddenly, Roxas doesn't want that. He wants Axel back, and it's so stupid and pointless and against his morals but Axel is _trying_. Axel wants to take it all back. And why can't he let Axel?

He bites his lip and wonders if it's against his better judgment or not, to keep that all inside. To let Axel decide for himself.

And Axel does; his hands unwrap from around Roxas' and he steps back, and the space between them becomes cold fast.

"I can't." Axel repeats, and his words sound empty and a little forlorn and broken. Roxas wants to kiss them out of his mouth, but judgment tells him not to. "Huh, well, I deserve that, ya."

Roxas doesn't say anything. Instead, he stares at the cold coffee in his hands.

"Thanks for listening to me." Axel says, defeated; Roxas doesn't say anything, his mouth a tight line against his face. He still feels like crying. "I mean. Yeah, thanks. I'll talk to you later, Roxy- Roxas." He corrects himself, and by the time Roxas almost gets the courage to tell him to stay he's half turned away. "Seeya."

At Axel's back, Roxas' heart begs him to listen, to hear the words _come back!_ it's screaming. Instead, Roxas goes inside, grabs his apron, and pours the coffee down the drain.

--------------

It's back to feeling mechanical to Roxas, and by the time Xigbar is all threatening them with bodily harm if they fuck up themselves somehow for the Twilight Tournament, which is a week away, Olette has sat him down and told him, in no small words, that he is going to come to the warm-up party and he is going to get fantastically drunk off his ass.

"I don't want to though." He says indignantly, because he can at least act like a child. It's nice to let someone have control once in awhile, even if they're trying to drag him out to get a social life.

"I don't care." Olette says, her hands wrapped around her own sugary drink of choice- a mocha with extra chocolate sauce. It also has a disgusting amount of warm milk in it. It's less of a mocha and more of an 'Olette's special drink'. "You're coming. And we're pre-drinking at my house, so we can arrive fashionably shitfaced."

Roxas laughs at that, because Olette doesn't swear often. It's a side effect of dating Hayner, he supposes, but it's still funny every once in awhile.

"There's no way I'm getting out of this, right?" Roxas says jokingly, placing his café latte on the glass dining table. "You're gonna drag me there in chains if I don't consent, huh?"

Olette's smile is wide and bright and happy, and for the first time in awhile Roxas feels a warm rush of affection pulling at his heart. "Yep. And I'll pour the alcohol down your throat too."

Roxas laughs at that, crossing his ankles and leaning into the comfy back of the lounge chair he's sitting in.

"Poor me." He muses. "With friends like you, who needs crippling alcohol addiction?"

-------------------

When he and Olette and Hayner get to the party (around ten thirty), they are all appropriately shitfaced, just like Olette predicted. Or, well, Olette and Hayner are- Roxas is pleasantly buzzed in all the right places, a warm and fuzzy feeling where his brain is supposed to be.

The first one to open the door to them is surprisingly Pence, who is dating a girl who does a wicked good job at shot put and discus. They all yell happily, jostling each other for hugs, and by the end of it Roxas already has a spill down the front of his white shirt. It's all good though, and they laugh before Pence and Hayner bounce off, presumably to find the ping pong tournament.

Him and Olette navigate through the crowd, greeting people they know. Some people Roxas has never met before come up to congratulate him on his winnings during Destiny Islands, where he had gotten second place after being a previously unknown candidate. It had been a big uproar, this tiny boy no one had expected.

"Five feet, four inches!" One boy names Wakka crows, holding up a plastic cup full of beer. "Three cheers for our guy here!"

They all hip-hip-hurray, carefully clinking cups against each other in a toast to Roxas. Roxas laughs, pretends to drink an invisible beer, and then he and Olette muscle their way to the kitchen. After a rough minute spent one part dancing, one part pushing, they're finally there, wide grins on their faces at all the open alcohol around them.

"Glad you came yet?" Olette says, bumping shoulders with him; Roxas bumps back and reaches for the stack of cups by the keg, which are already running pathetically low for the beginning of a party.

"Yeah yeah yeah." He laughs, bending down for the tap. "But don't you dare say I told you so."

For an hour and a half Roxas has a fun time- he dances, which is unheard of even when he is shitfaced, fall-over drunk, and in a dare he kisses Hayner, who pushes him away after two seconds amongst the catcalls and the 'That's so hot!' from Olette. They end up laughing about it before Hayner dares Seifer, who had made Roxas do it in the first place, to pretend to have sex with the keg. It's hilarious because Seifer is actually drunk enough to do it.

Sometime around midnight, Roxas is coming downstairs from using the bathroom (which is a twenty minute endeavor, what with half the party making out on the stairs and the inevitable too-drunk chick vomiting up in the bathroom) when he sees Axel. He's drunk enough to make it not awkward, to yell and wave and act like they're friends, before he sees who's with him.

It's the guy, the one who had been naked in Axel's bed. Instead of his sleep-mussed hair though, the guy has a ridiculous Mohawk mullet thing, and his hair is sandy blond. He also looks like an alright kind of guy, the way his smile stretches over his face, but the sight of him makes Roxas' stomach drop out.

And the worst thing- the thing that makes Roxas' happy, pleasant buzz turn sour in his stomach, the one that makes him feel like his head is too full and there is too much air in his lungs, is the fact that Axel is leaning into him, one arm braced above him, lips close to his ear. It looks intimate and unreal, like a moment trapped in time compared to the rest of the party. It's surreal. It makes Roxas feel sick.

Before he thinks about what he's doing he's run down the rest of the stairs and pushed his way to the kitchen, where he'd last seen Olette.

She's still there, but this time her and Hayner are trading those shy little lover kisses, the ones you usually see in the movies where the couple wakes up in the morning, or when it's showing their happy ending. It makes Roxas' stomach feel heavier, makes him ache so bad, but he doesn't do anything but tap Olette's shoulder.

Once she looks at him, her face immediately falls and she pushes Hayner away, who gives him an annoyed glare until he takes in Roxas' face too. Before they can say anything, Roxas says, "I, uh, I gotta go Olette. I'll talk to you later? Maybe. Yeah."

"Roxas, what's wrong? Tell me at least so I don't worry." Her face is creased with nervous anticipation, and Roxas hates doing this to her because he automatically knows that he's ruined her night for her, that she'll worry about him for the rest of the party.

And maybe he's drunker than he thought he was because he actually stage whispers, which is hilarious but sad on so many accounts. "He's here. I can't. Not. I can't, not while he's here."

He sounds so earnest, so heartbroken, and he can see that Olette and Hayner see that- but, for a split second, Hayner's face hardens and Olette's uneasy frown turns into a sharp, angry one, and from behind Roxas there's a voice. "While who's here?"

When he turns around, Axel is there in all his blue-jean, leather jacket glory. He looks warm, two spots of color high on his cheeks, and Roxas hates himself for noticing it.

Before he can say anything Hayner has draped his jacket around Roxas' shoulders and has pushed him towards the kitchen door, face hard and menacing.

"Go on, Roxas. We'll catch up with you after."

"Hayner-" He starts, unsure of what to feel but uncertain, and Hayner cuts his eyes towards him and smiles a soft, sad smile.

"Go on," He prompts again, nudging Roxas towards the door. "I'll take care of him."

And Roxas- Roxas listens, and as the door closes behind him he hears Axel's bewildered voice, and Hayner, loud and clear. "I don't know what you're fucking problem is-"

Maybe it's the drunkenness, or maybe it's an adrenaline rush, because Roxas can hear the blood pounding in his ears as he lopes down the steps, past another dozen couples making out on the porch and the grass, and heads towards the back of the yard, where it's open-ended into a back alley.

With Hayner's bomber jacket around him he walks fast, passing garbage cans and garage lights that flicker on when he passes them. A cat startles him when it curls around the side of a fence, and it watches him with luminous eyes as he walks past.

He doesn't know how far he is from the house, and he loses track of time, but suddenly he can hear footsteps behind him and fast breath, short, hurried puffs that sounds like someone running.

Roxas is drunk, and he knows it's Axel before he even looks behind him, can see the tall dark figure in his mind's eye even before he sees him physically. He's also drunk enough to know that there is no way this can end well so he breaks into a jog of his own, arms tight around himself.

"Roxas!" Axel calls, which just makes him run faster and faster. This is a feat for him, and for a second he imagines he's at the run before the pole vault, and tricks himself into believing the tenseness of his forearms is the weight that comes with a pole. For a second, Roxas feels invincible, and he's ready to fly.

All of that comes crashing down when Axel grabs his arm and tries to bring him to a stop; Roxas jerks his arm out of the grip and whips around to face Axel.

"Don't fucking touch me!" He yells, and he can already feel his face breaking down into anger. The way his eyebrows form into a sharp v, the way the area tenses around his eyes and his nostrils flare over the tight, angry slash of his mouth. And the run, and the cold, and the whole goddamn drama have sobered him so he only feels slightly sick and woozy. "I don't want you to fucking touch me!"

"Roxas!" Axel says, and makes a grab for his arm again; he whips it out of the way, taking a step back or two. "Fuck, can you just listen?"

In the dim light at the mouth of the alley Roxas can see a trickle of blood on Axel's lips, and the area around his eye already looks puffy; there's a small wash of concern under all the rage but Roxas doesn't want to feel it, and won't. Instead, he glares at Axel.

It's like all the anger he should have felt all these weeks has come and hit him square in the chest and consumed him like fire. All the sad emotions are paper and kindle. Axel is the match. And Roxas is blazing.

"No. You know what? You fucking listen! You fucking listen for once!" Roxas' hands come out of his pockets and fling out to his sides; Axel looks like he wants to grab Roxas again, to hold him down, but Roxas positively snarls at him.

"You fucking ruined this, ok? You're the one who flung it down, in my fucking face I might add, and said you didn't want this anymore!"

"I never said that!" Axel sounds angry too, and he takes a step forward, as if trying to get into Roxas' space. Roxas doesn't feel like having any of that, though, and his hand shoots up to push at Axel's shoulder, to get him to back off. Axel does, maybe out of sheer surprise, but it's enough for Roxas.

"You fucking did, Axel! By cheating on me! Fucker!" Roxas swears, and this time he holds his hands out, as if getting ready to hug Axel; he laughs, a big, broken 'Ha!' in the darkness and stillness of the alley. "You're the one who gave this up, and who hasn't- you haven't! Fuck!"

Roxas spins around, puts his back towards Axel as he tries to collect himself, tries to call all that rage to form into words; it all spins out of his head when he feels Axel's light touch on his arm, maybe trying to turn him around.

Roxas does- he turns around and his hands come up and shove against Axel, hard, push him so far back he stumbles for a second and almost falls.

"I fucking loved you, you asshole!" Roxas screams. "I fucking loved you and you just- it was nothing to you!"

And Roxas remembers something from that night- how he'd been thinking in the car, yes, it was love. It was odd and wonderful and so full in his chest he thought he was going to burst. He had never felt like that before, and it was beautiful, and. And he was going to tell Axel that night, crawl into bed with him and whisper it in his ear as many times as Axel wanted to hear it.

Roxas realizes he's crying, tears of anger, but this is where all the hurt and pain is coming out. This is when he realizes how bad love hurts when you thought the other person loved you but found out they didn't.

"Roxas, I-" Axel is saying, reaching towards him. Roxas can't take it anymore.

He takes a step back, takes in a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't need your fucking pity." He says, angry, wiping at his eyes angrily. "Fuck you. If you try to touch me, I'll fuck you up."

Axel's arms drop to his side, and there's silence for a minute, before:

"I- I loved. Love you too, you know. Roxas."

"Oh fuck off." Roxas says, and there's bitter bile in the back of his throat. His next words are sarcastic and every bit as angry as when he started screaming, but the anger is fading into pain and disbelief and the want to curl up and sleep for years. "Lying won't do anything."

Axel is silent, and Roxas can see his hands shoved into his pockets, and remembers a scene with startling clarity:

"_Hey," Roxas said, slipping his hands into Axel's pockets once he came to stand in front of him. The redhead looked down at him, smiled a goofy smile, and wrapped his hands around Roxas' inside the pockets._

"_Hey babe." Axel said in a rough, baritone voice, trying to copy the voice of a bad boy. Roxas laughed, smiled up at him before leaning up for a kiss. They were those shy little lover kisses, the ones you usually saw in the movies where the couple wakes up in the morning, or when it's showing their happy ending. It made Roxas' stomach feel warm and heavy, like he just drank good wine._

_Axel pulled back and rested his head against Roxas', smiled a shy, private one Roxas only saw every once in awhile, when they were being disgustingly romantic and couple-y. Axel, Roxas knew, really liked acting this disgusting. He was a big mush at heart._

"_What we doin' today?" Roxas said, grinning back up at Axel. He felt perfectly content, right where he was, but he knew he was going to have to move some time._

"_Well," Axel responded, licking his lips, "Thought we'd go to the ice cream shop today, yanno."_

"_How original." Roxas said, and Axel laughed, warm gusts of air flowing over his face._

"_Well, I, uh, love- Ice cream." He said awkwardly, and Roxas grinned up at him._

"_You love ice cream, huh?" Roxas said teasingly. "Careful, I'm gonna think you like ice cream more than you like me."_

_And Axel had smiled and said nothing, instead leaning in for a soft kiss that made Roxas' heart flutter._

This memory, so clear and vivid, is too much and before Roxas can contain himself he's on all fours in the dirt, throat stinging as vomit forces its way up. It makes Roxas' eyes hurt, and from behind him Axel makes a noise and Roxas hears him step forward.

"Don't." Roxas says, voice rough. "Just."

And Axel gets it- from the corner of his eye he can see him walking away, hear his footsteps fade, and Roxas doesn't let himself look anymore once Axel's turned the corner.

Roxas' event is in ten minutes, and he knows he's going to start off on the wrong foot, in the same way a fisherman knows a storm's coming by the smell of the air.

He's felt this way all day, like everything was just going to go bad. In the back of his mind, he knows it's not such a big thing if he does badly- he's only in his second year, and he isn't relying on sports as a way to make his way in life. If he loses badly, he can just go back to being an economics major. It's fine like that. He can still participate in events and things.

But that doesn't stop the sick feeling in his gut, the way it makes him bend over and gasp in the shower room, trying to calm down.

The last time Roxas had freaked this bad, he'd been in a river and the bottom of his and his cousin Sora's boat had hit a rock. The rock had torn a hole and they had begun to sink before Riku, an older friend of Sora's, had seen them and tried saving them. He succeeded, but had left Roxas out in the river until he made sure Sora was ok. It had been terrible, the coldness at his feet, the way everything went from pinprickly to numb to totally and completely not there. How his lungs felt like they were full of everything but air.

When he bends over next, a gasp tearing his way out of his throat, there's a hand on his back and Roxas isn't sure he's grateful or terrified of the fact that it's Axel's hand spanning his spine.

"Hey," Axel says, hand smoothing down his back, gentle. "Hey, it's ok, I got you."

Roxas takes another grasp of air and of its own accord his hand comes up and grips Axel's jersey, bunching in his fingers. It feels good to be grounded to something, to hold on for all he's worth.

"I." Roxas tries to say, but shudders as another cold wave of panic hits him and takes his breath away.

"No, it's ok, just breathe Roxas. Just clear your head like Xig taught us too, remember?" Axel's voice is soothing, very professional. Very caring. Roxas takes a deep breath. "Just think of first year. Right before Atlantis, remember? Rai got a discus in the face that day."

Roxas laughs a huff at that and remembers, remembers how Rai had been crying and bleeding and he and Axel had fallen over on the sidelines laughing, unable to do anything else. The laugh feels like it eases something up in him, if only a little bit.

Axel lets out an easy chuckle, smoothes his hand down Roxas' back while his other hand comes to wrap around Roxas' fist, still clenched in his shirt.

"Breathe in and out and think of nothing but how good it'll feel to fly." Axel hums out, and Roxas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

This moment in time, it all feels normal. It feels like before, when they were best friends, when they were just two guys who shared a lot of the same interests. It feels easy, and intense, and Roxas, for this moment, doesn't think about anything Axel has done to him, just what Axel has done for him.

It feels good, and this is the final thought before Roxas' fist relaxes and he lets out another, easier breath.

"See, Rox, you're doin' good." Axel's hand pats his back lightly and he drops his hands away; after a second Roxas lets go of his shirt, straightens up. "You'll be fine. You gotta couple of minutes, so you'll be fine."

"Axel," Roxas says, and closes his eyes; when he opens them, Axel is staring steadily into his face, a thoughtful look on his face.

Roxas doesn't know what to say so he stares back, and they assess each other.

That's when Roxas sees that Axel still hasn't given up- it's in his eyes, the strong, proud look. He's just- waiting for Roxas. Being patient. Asking for forgiveness by not begging for it.

"Thank you." Roxas says, and the smile on Axel's face is wide and reassured and supportive. It's the look of someone who's cheering for you.

"Do good out there, yeah? I heard Xemnas Petrelli is out there somewhere." Axel says, and Roxas' brow quirks up.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Roxas says dryly, and it's kind of awkward still. But it's so much better than it was before.

Axel laughs.

Outside, there's a call for _Roxas Sunaro, please report to the pole vault. Roxas Sunaro, please report to pole vault immediately._

"Go get 'em, tiger." Axel says, and hesitates for a split second before his hand comes up and claps Roxas lightly on the shoulder. The touch is fleeting and hardly there but Roxas feels the weight of it, the good luck heavy on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Roxas says, and before anything else can be said he's started towards the door.

He doesn't feel bad anymore, and doesn't feel like everything is going to fall to pieces. He doesn't feel like nothing will happen or anything will happen. Roxas is confident. Roxas feels brave. He feels like he can take this competition for what it is and win it.

He doesn't look back, but he knows he can do it.

Roxas' feet hits the grass outside and he breaks into a sprint, ready to fly.

-------------------

"Five feet, twenty one inches!"

A cheer goes up as Roxas climbs off the box, a wide grin splitting his face in half. Somewhere in the crowd he hears Olette and Sora screaming, can hear Hayner whistling loud and proud. Most of all, Roxas can hear the blood rushing around his body, can feel himself still flying and his legs stretching and the thought in his head of _you can do it, you're flying, you can do it, you're flying_.

From his teammates he gets high fives, rough shoves to his shoulder, and a hard pat from the team's captain. It's not the highest score- that goes to a guy named Hercules from Olympus- but so far it's second best, and it pulls them up a spot for the whole meet, and Roxas feels great. He feels amazing.

He sticks around to watch Fuu try when it comes the women's turn, and then waits watches as a girl named Minnie from Disney Castle, an all-girl school, beats her score; he's thinking about the rankings, about Xemnas Petrelli being in the stands, when a loudspeaker goes off and he hears, faintly,

"_Male's 100m dash, all participants please report to track C. Male's 100m dash, all participants please report to track c_."

That's Axel's race, he thinks. He doesn't wonder why he knows this- knows that all sentences with 'Axel' in it have been best ignored, and sometimes blocked completely from his hearing- but he doesn't care.

This is when Roxas realizes that some things are best let go when all you should do is follow your heart, even if it hurts. Even if it makes him sick, as long as it makes him happy in the end.

And it's probably not the right decision, especially since Axel might cheat on him again, but then at least he'd know for sure.

Roxas gives second chances.

Ignoring the inquiries that follow his back, he starts running.

----------

When he gets to the sidelines Axel's heat isn't up yet, but Roxas can see that he's warming up a little father down, arms stretched to touch his toes from where he sits. Beside him are Eric, a man from Atlantica that won third place during Destiny Islands, and Jack, a man that looks like a skeleton but seems to just float on the wind when he runs. He won first place, and for a second Roxas fears for Axel, and thinks for a second, _Axel can't do it. He'll lose_.

Then he remembers that unwavering determination of Axel's, the certainty in his eyes that Roxas would do good, and when the gun goes off and the runners push off their starting blocks the feeling of fear is slowly vanishing.

Someone from the Land of Dragons, a boy named Ping, wins by a mile, but Roxas isn't looking at that. He's watching Axel, whose stretching his skinny legs and looking for all the world cocky as hell. But Roxas knows that look, just like he knew Axel knew he'd win- it's a false bravado, one that puts people in the mind that he doesn't care if he loses. But Axel does care. Roxas is one of the only people that knows he takes running seriously, that he almost got kicked out of high school because he had concentrated on running too much. That he wakes up with the sun and runs five miles a day, going back to bed afterwards

Someone yells a two-minute warning and that's when Axel, who's on the inside, crouches down and puts his foot in the starting block; he pushes forward, runs a meter, and then goes back to the starting block. Testing the ground and the block itself, Roxas thinks; getting used to it for optimal start. It's what Olette explained to him once when he asked her why she did that, why it took sprinters such a long time to get ready.

The third time Axel does it, he slows ten feet from where Roxas is and when his eyes sweep the sidelines they catch on Roxas' before moving on; Roxas almost laughs a second later when his eyes snap back to him and they go wide, like he's sure that Roxas is there in his imagination only.

For a second he feels timid and unwanted, and Axel goes to open his mouth, but the man calls for a thirty second mark.

Before Axel turns around, he gives Axel a small smile- unsure, a little sad, but all the same, Axel _gets _it- gets that Roxas is cheering for him. And that's all Roxas needs.

When the gun goes off and the cheers start, Axel pushing off a split second late, Roxas lets everything go and it _explodes_.

"Come on Axel, you asshole! RUN."

Axel wins second, and barely- two more seconds and Eric would have been in front of him, would have beaten him, but Axel _won_. 11.08 seconds, which is the second fastest dash during the whole heat so far, and that's _good._ Two seconds more and he would have been in the top ten of the whole world, never mind in the college circuit.

Jack wins at 10.53, but still. Axel hadn't even gotten a mention last time, never mind a placement. It's amazing and good and fantastic and Roxas feels full of joy for them because they're both second place and that doesn't matter because that's _good._

This time, when he heads towards the men's changing rooms, he expects Axel to be there; he's not disappointed when he turns the corner and sees Axel wiping off his face with a towel, shirt sticking to his back with sweat. Roxas is suddenly full of such fondness for the other man that he can't help but grin, wide and proud, and his next words sound warm to his own ears when he says them.

"Hey," He starts, smiling, "You did great."

Axel startles, and for a second he just stares at Roxas as if something mean is going to come out of his mouth any second. Roxas smile falters at that, a little, and he goes to maybe say, 'that's all I had to say. What I wanted you to know', before Axel grins, a tiny little happy thing, and loops the towel around his neck.

"I was pretty kickass, huh?" He says, easily. "Jack, that fucker, probably cheated."

"Totally." Roxas nods gravelly. "Did you see those muscles? He probably sneaks steroids into his drinks every morning."

Axel laughs at that because, if anything, Jack is skinnier than he is, which is saying something because the first time Roxas hugged Axel it felt like he was getting poked by his bones.

Which brings into question touching- and for that matter, forgiveness. It feels weird, joking with Axel, when he knows they're going to have to talk about it. That Roxas is going to have to say that if Axel does it one more time he won't be able to handle it, that any prospect of them is out forever, no matter how long it'll take Roxas to get over it. No matter how much Axel begs, or understands, or waits.

When Axel takes a step forward Roxas feels a panicky moment of suffocation and he tenses, watching Axel watching him.

Axel stills; they stand there for a moment, both of them unsure, before Axel takes another step forward. Roxas doesn't move.

From there on it's a little easier, not moving when Axel takes steps towards him; by the time Axel is in front of him though, Roxas only has a view of his dirty running shoes, pressed to the side of Roxas', and a hand touching his shoulder.

"Hey," Axel says, softly, and Roxas looks up.

Axel's eyes don't really say anything besides what they've been saying for weeks. Desperation mixed with hope and pleading, a lot of pleading, for forgiveness. There's also a sort of softness there, like he's approaching this with a lot more hope than before.

"Hey," Axel repeats, and his other hand slides up Roxas' arm. The touch is warm and a little damp with sweat; Roxas thinks he should find it disgusting. He doesn't.

"I can't-" Roxas starts, before he even knows what he's going to say, before he can gather his thoughts together and be confident when he tells Axel there is no Third chance. There is no way in hell after this. He twists his mouth, looks up at Axel sternly and with a little fear in his chest because just now, just at the moment, Roxas realizes he's putting himself out there. Again.

Roxas has never been the one to do that- he's always the one that reins his feelings in, that makes sure he doesn't get too attached when he knows things might go wrong. He was the one who didn't pet the wildcats under the barn when he was younger, while Sora did- he was also the one who didn't cry when their grandfather put them in a plastic bag and went down to the lake, coming back empty handed.

"I can't, not again." He says, finally, and it's hard past the lump in his throat because if Axel says he can't do that, it's over- and Roxas will have a harder time getting over that than before. He knows he will.

Axel doesn't hesitate though, and the hands on his shoulder and arm winding around his back and pulling him close; he smells Axel, undeniably, the smell of smoke and sweat, and can feel the rise and fall of his chest. Underneath it all, there's a heartbeat, steady and quick.

Roxas' hands go to Axel's hips and make fists in his shirt, tight; like before, when he was anxious and dizzy with nervousness, but more relaxed.

"I'm sorry." Axel murmurs against his hair, lips soft against his ear.

Roxas doesn't say anything for a moment, still unsure about the whole thing. The sadistic part in him feels like making Axel grovel a little, just a little more, like the passed weeks didn't matter at all, like Axel coming to bother him at work was nothing. Like Axel chasing him down an alley was a weak gesture to get him back, maybe only for the sex.

Axel's arms unwind from behind him and again they go to his shoulders, push him back- Roxas has a panicked second of feeling like something went wrong, in him not saying anything, before Axel bends down and looks up at his face, serious. It makes Roxas' heart beat quicken, just for a second, because Axel is never that serious. Not unless it's about running.

"I'm sorry." Axel repeats, and his hands tighten on Roxas' shoulders. "And I won't. Ever again. I was stupid, and I panicked a little."

Roxas, for a second, wonders what the hell, why you would cheat on someone if you were panicked. Because, if so, Roxas would have done that a couple times, and he's not like that, and he didn't think Axel was like that either.

When Axel sees the bewilderment on Roxas' face he lets out a little laugh and his eyes slide to the side; it's only when Roxas sees the blush, high on his cheeks and decidedly not from running a 100m dash that he realizes Axel is embarrassed.

"I, well." Axel starts, and Roxas feels like teasing him. If only for a second. "I just- it's weird."

For a second, Roxas does- he says, deadpan as he can, "Well, no weirder than the time you made the animal crackers stand guard at your bed because you didn't want George Foreman getting you."

Axel looks at him, surprised, his mouth a round 'o' before he breaks out laughing, hard- it's the sound of Axel when he's really high, or really hyper, that big, booming laugh that actually sounds like 'ha ha ha!'. Roxas grins.

It actually takes Axel a minute to calm down from that, and when he does he grins wide at Roxas, as if they weren't having a serious conversation a minute before.

"I can't believe you remembered that." Axel says, a little breathless.

"Well, how could I forget?" Roxas says, scowling at Axel's face mockingly. "You made me go buy pickles and pudding because you said it would cure any hangover. And than you puked on my cat."

Axel lets out another belly rumbling laugh at that. "I apologized for that!"

"You didn't apologize to Milo." Roxas says, offended. "She was very upset."

"I'll apologize to her, I swear." Axel says, and the grin on his face fades but the happiness doesn't die on it; he looks positively content and Roxas realizes he feels the same way, all relaxed and goopily happy. He's missed this, he thinks.

But Axel looks nervous again, a little embarrassed. Roxas waits patiently because Axel needs to apologize, even if Roxas' has already accepted him. Even if Roxas doesn't need anything more.

"I wasn't lying." Axel says, "at. At the coffee shop. I, uh, panicked. When I realized that. That I love," And for a second it looks like Axel can't force the word out, that he can't say 'you' because it'll put him in the line of fire. For a second, nothing comes out of his mouth and Roxas feels like he'll never hear anything like it because Axel is afraid, maybe just as afraid as him.

"I love you." Axel blurts out, suddenly, unexpectedly, and everything, every little fear about this whole thing, melts away. "I just, I freaked, and I love you, and I regret ever doing anything to hurt you."

"But you did." Roxas says, seemingly out of nowhere, and it sounds so bitter and angry that for a second Roxas isn't sure where it's coming from. "You cheated on me."

Axel looks like he's about to argue for a second- Roxas knows he's about to argue, because Axel told him once before that kissing isn't cheating, that he only kissed that guy. In Roxas' eyes, though, that's just one way of saying 'I don't love you'.

When Axel remembers this the argument disappears off his face and it softens.

"I know." Axel says, "I regret it. I'm sorry."

When Axel looks up at him, all full of love and regret and just plain pain, Roxas sees everything.

"What can I do to convince you?" Axel pleads, not even hiding anything. "How will you know I love you?"

It doesn't even take a second for Roxas' brain to make up his mind and his mouth to open.

"Kiss me."

Axel doesn't hesitate; he pushes forward, presses his lips against Roxas' so sweetly it's just- it's like the first time they fucked in the back of Axel's truck, when Roxas felt like he was being pulled apart and everything was just- so sweet.

Roxas makes a noise in the back of his throat, a small satisfied sound, and opens his mouth, swipes at Axel's lips with his tongue.

From there it gets a little dirtier, touching tongues cautiously and uninhibited, hot and slick and Roxas remembers sex with Axel, startlingly clear, remembers that Axel loved rimming him and loved dirty talk and liked being tied up; thinks about it being a whole month and a half since sex, since he even thought of sex, and before he can think about anything else Axel pulls away.

"I don't think they'll enjoy it if we both, uh, are a little excited when we go up to accept our medals." Axel says, jokingly, a little breathless, and Roxas laughs at that.

"So I can't just suck you off here?" Roxas says, and then realizes that's totally inappropriate and maybe he must be high. Or something. There's no way he'd usually say that. Ever.

But then Axel looks at him with wide eyes, and Roxas laughs.

"You wish." Roxas says.


End file.
